


Habibi

by w0lfmoon



Series: Peaky Blinders Reader Fics [6]
Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: F/M, Tooth Rotting Fluff, a shameless self indulgent fluff fest tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-14
Updated: 2018-08-14
Packaged: 2019-06-27 03:27:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15677094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/w0lfmoon/pseuds/w0lfmoon
Summary: Alfie wonders why reader calls him habibi and learns a new word in return. Fluff fluff fluff





	Habibi

**Author's Note:**

> not requested. Just a short sweet little drabble. Self indulgent tbh. (I’m a Moroccan Arab and I just needed to write something involving Alfie being very much interested in the Arabic language and the terms of endearments and whatnot. Just something cute, ya know.)
> 
> Not my best work. Wrote this on my phone while waiting for zzzquil to knock me out so apologies in advanced.
> 
> as always, requests are open and this can also be found on tumblr under tommyalfiesdoll

 

It just slipped from your lips, really. After all, your tongue was accustomed to the beautiful flow of Arabic, having grown up speaking, reading and writing it alongside English, it was almost expected that your brain would become indecisive at when and how you speak in each respective language. But you forgot that your beloved Jewish gangster boyfriend of nearly ten months has not really heard you speak Arabic around him, and naturally he was confused when the word"habibi," slipped through as you were greeting him.

"It’s a funny word, innit?" He started, scratching at his beard all the while enjoying the crimson flush that began to overtake your fair face. "Ha-bee-bi” his tongue trying to get accustomed to the term of endearment. You couldn’t help the chuckle at the sound of it from your grumpy bear.

"Look Alfie, I wasn’t really thinking, sometimes my brain thinks in English but it’ll come out Arabic and vice versa" you began, hoping to remedy the situation. Alfie raised an eyebrow at you.

"Now luv, it seems you think I’m makin’ fun of you, and while I don’t blame you for your assumption, I am actually merely admiring how beautiful this word is, yeah?" Now it was your turn to raise your eyebrows. In the short time that you’ve known Alfie, you knew he was not one for being sentimental, but then again, he reserved all his sentimentality for you; who were you to complain. After all, Alfie was the first man to really treat you as a regular person, not some exotic flower from an exotic unknown land in North Africa.

“Now now don’t you go all raisin’ your eyebrows at me, doll. I just wanna know what that pretty word means is all. I mean, it is as pretty as me missus." Damn cheeky and charming bastard.

You set the book that was on your lap on the table and stalked towards Alfie and placed yourself on his lap, causing a pleasurable grunt to escape his incredibly scrumptious lips.

"Forgive me, habibi, I was just a wee bit skeptical considerin’ who I am dating and all” that earned you a pinch to your backside, "okay okay, I’ll tell ya, ya big oaf, habibi basically means love. It’s a term of endearment, like darling or love."

Alfie smiled and kissed your neck gently, “mmmm I really like that, I want you to call me that from now on, ya hear me?" You giggled as he lightly left ticklish kisses along your bare flesh.

”Consider it a deal,” you beamed, " and if you ever want to vary up your vast collection of petnames for me, you can always call me either habiba or habibiti, it means love but those are usually reserve for women whereas habibi is reserved for men. But, it doesn’t matter usually. It all means the same thing.” You explained while you adjusted yourself in your lover’s lap, wrapping your arms around his neck, clinging to him like a babe.

Alfie chuckled at your clinginess and tightened his grip on your waist, “hmmm I quite like it, right yeah... habiba." And he lifted your chin from his chest to have you look at him, nothing but pure adoration swimming in his baby blues. You couldn’t help but beam and kiss him delicately, savoring the mouth and tongue that sought permission to use the language of your culture to further cement his devotion to you.

You were a lucky woman, indeed. And you hope that one day, his tongue will slip into Russian or Yiddish, because you will be there, to welcome them onto your tongue as well.

 


End file.
